In Her Frock Coat and Bipperty-Bopperty Hat

Although I haven't seen an official notice yet, other people have announced it; so I thought I'd let you all know that my story "The Water-Poet and the Four Seasons," which originally appeared at the inestimable Strange Horizons, will be appearing in Prime Books' Fantasy: The Best of the Year, edited by Rich Horton. May I just say WOW. My first reprint! Yay! I can't wait to see the full TOC for this one.

In book news, I just finished Valiant (I know, I know; I'm way behind the curve on this one) and as much as I liked Tithe, Valiant was a step above. Awesome, awesome book. Now I'm reading Hope Was Here. (Yes, I'm still reading Emma, but it's a long book and I need breaks.) I really kind of love Joan Bauer. Her books maybe wrap up a little neatly at times, but her protagonists are so, so wonderful.

It's been awhile since I gave y'all any elephant links of note. This just came out yesterday: elephants know themselves in a mirror. In other words, they are self-aware. I know this is science and all, but I can't help thinking . . . duh? Good to have more evidence, I guess. Also, lots of buzz around this NYT article about rogue elephant behavior, which also points towards elephants as susceptible to trauma, frustration, and despair; not to mention malicious intelligence. Again, not to paint myself as an expert, but this all seems pretty obvious to me based on the reading I've done. F'r instance, they've found that this sort of aggression in young males can be related to the culling or poaching of older bulls in the population; if elder bulls are reintroduced into an area, they act as mentors for the younger ones, teaching them to curb their aggression. But there has been a notable escalation in elephant attacks against humans, as the article notes. Mainly this is true in areas where there's just not enough space for both. Humans think of all land as their own, to cultivate and settle, but there's no universal truth that makes it so.

So . . . is it just me, or does this Borat thing not look in the least funny? I saw him on SNL over the weekend, and on Letterman last night, and at neither point did he make me laugh. (The dude in the background during the SNL open made me laugh at one point, but I'm not sure that counts.) I actually caught a fair amount of Yakov Smirnoff back in the day (I watched a lot of "Night Court"), so maybe it's just that I've seen the material before. So it's conceptual humor, eh? It's not making fun of Kazakhstan, but of the geographically and culturally ignorant Americans who take the act at face value? OK. It seems like a bit of a reach to me, but fine. But while I get the conceptual part, I think they forgot to add in the humor. Peppering one's talk with phrases like "the sexy" and punctuating it with a grinning thumbs-up isn't cutting it for me. I don't know. I'm not really sure why it's rubbing me wrong, but it is.

And finally, I'd like to end on a serious note. Today is Halloween, and you all know what that means. Please, please take all necessary precautions to prevent any undue pain and suffering. I'm speaking, of course, of dogs in costumes. Just don't do it. Pretend your dog is a wolf or some other such beast if you must--imagination is a powerful thing--but do not put him or her in a hat, a wig, or anything with sleeves. Your dog puts up with a collar; asking more is unreasonable and rude. Thank you for your support.

Now get off your churr! I mean "Chair."

Are you, like me, a fan of Bob Dylan? Then you should probably not go here and watch the video. Seriously, don't. You've been warned. (Via Ms. Cadigan.)*

Drinks Friday with Barth, who was in town for a conference. Good talking about starting out as a novelist (you have your copy of The Patron Saint of Plagues, right?) and other things. That, and a visit last week from my pal Keith and his wife Stacy, Semi-Os meeting, and dinner last night with Marianne (tapas and martinis--mmm), makes this past week just about the most social I've been in months. And this weekend is WFC. When I get back from Austin I'll probably have to hide in a hole for a week.

Meghan is worried about Lady Sovereign. I'm not, so much, but I don't want to miss the chance to mention her. Some English MCs get it twisted/ Start sayin' "cookie" 'stead of biscuit . . . Anyway.

Dead Girl. Mike Allred. Dr. Strange. Kraven the Hunter and Mysterio trying to come back from hell. Ant-Man, obsessed with cleaning the carpets of the underworld. Hemmorhoid jokes. 'Nuff said.

*Want context? Twyla Tharp is building a Broadway show around the songs of Bob Dylan. Frelling hell. I've been starting to develop an appreciation for musicals, but this . . . this . . .

IM IN UR MUG . . . STEEPIN UR TEA

Check out Merylinabarrel's Jack-O-Lantern. It passes the Turing Test. At least, A Turing Test.

Austen update: gave up on Mansfield Park, moved on to Emma. Emma herself isn't all that likeable, but she's at least amusing. Fanny was too passive and impressionable. Edmund was a pompous twit.

Also reading about elephants again--this time, Cynthia Moss's Elephant Memories--and thinking about the elephant novel. The reason I got stuck on it at first, I think, was that I got all these story ideas before I really knew anything about the animals. Now I've absorbed enough information and gotten enough distance from my original idea for the parts to start to rearrange to reflect fact, or at least possibility. Still want an arcology in there. Think I've got that figured out.

I keep forgetting to mention that one of my fave under-published authors, Eleanor Arnason, has a blog. She's also posting at a group blog started by her writer's group, the Wyrdsmiths. I particularly liked her post on her least favorite truism, "Show Don't Tell."

Moon Knight? Really? I'm so not clamoring for that one.

Finally, in case this post isn't random enough, have some classic A Tribe Called Quest. "Damn, Tip, what'd you drive so far for?

Wenstrup House

Wenstrup House
Originally uploaded by Snurri.

"Few citizens realize nowadays that the large house at the corner of Boulder and Scott was once the Sanctum Sanctorum of longtime Sorceror Supreme, Walter Wenstrup, the inspiration for the Marvel Comics character Dr. Strange. It seems that artist Steve Ditko had read of Wenstrup's work in Prestidigitation Quarterly and began a correspondence with him . . . . Many of the comic adventures were loosely based on experiences Wenstrup related to Ditko. Their correspondence was truncated by the Banishing, in 1966, and it was about this time that Ditko quit the book. . . . Wenstrup lived for another twelve years, despite periodic assaults on his Sanctorum by various disgruntled sorcerors. He disappeared on May 17, 1978 (also known as the Day of Two Nights; see pages 414-433) while repelling an amphibious assault of unknown nature. After he was declared legally dead the occult authorities combed the premises of his home for some artifact or scrap of knowledge which might restore the city to the contours of the sundered earth. . . . Today the former place of power is home to a waste management consultant and her family. Wenstrup's belongings are housed in the city archives." (p.84)

In Which I Get Pissed Off by a Dumb TV Show

I am a Midwesterner. I was born here and I've always lived here. There's a decent chance I always will. The lazy dismissal of the citizens of "flyover country" is one way to quickly get on my bad side; in other words, if you use "Midwesterner" as shorthand for "ignorant and unimaginative" I will get ticked off. Not to say that we don't have a few of those folks here, sure. But I don't care where you live, you've got some of those folks living on your block. Don't try to pretend that sophistication is a regional attribute.

That's only one strike against last night's episode of "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip." Aaron Sorkin, according to Wikipedia at least, was born in New York City, so perhaps he's never met anyone who admitted to being from the Midwest. I don't know. But from the moment that Tom mentioned that his parents were coming in from Columbus, Ohio for a visit, I was afraid there was badness coming. And Jesus Christ was there. Tom's mother goes out of her way to tell Simon, the show's only black cast member, how much she likes Halle Berry; his father doesn't give a crap about Tom's work and only expresses any emotion when he inexplicably blurts out a line about his younger son being in Afghanistan. Neither of Tom's parents has ever heard of Abbott and Costello or "Who's On First?" (for god's sake, if any of you reading this haven't heard of it, go watch this right now) and they are so dazed by the big city stage lights that they are unable to grasp their son's success.

Argh. I haven't spent much time in Columbus, but it's a big town. Three-quarters of a million people, nearly a quarter of whom are African-American. They have TV there. Cable TV, even. Lights, too. Fucking hell, Sorkin; seriously, are you smoking the crack again? I can't buy this as a character note, because although we're five episodes in, Tom is barely a character at this point, and I'd guess we won't be seeing his parents again. If you're trying to make some point about Middle America vs. Hollywood, then congratulations, you've just regurgitated every contemptuous dismissal of the audience as a bunch of clueless, reactionary rubes ever committed. The next time you get on a plane, try getting off somewhere that's not the coast. I'd offer to show you around, but I've got a problem with ignorant people who think they know a lot. They rub me wrong.

What with all the regional stereotyping, I hardly had the energy to get irritated with the mess Sorkin made of the race issues (apparently all black people come from the ghetto, and the "good" ones feel guilty for getting out of it) or his trademark civics-lesson-within-an-episode (the random appearance of a blacklisted sketch writer from the Sid Caesar era, held up as a mirror for us to better watch the continuing hagiography of Matt and Danny). Man. I just don't think I can watch this anymore.

And I'm the Cure for Any Disease, 'Cause Ain't Nobody Funky Like Me

Itsy Bitsy Spider-Man! Oh man do I want this. Maybe if I buy it for every kid I know I can sneak one for myself? Make sure to watch the video.

From another region of the Internet altogether comes this review of Rabid Transit: Long Voyages, Great Lies, pointed out by Mr. Barzak. Very thoughtful (and favorable, overall) look at that publication, with some kind words about my story "Shackles."

Not much news to report. Even though I spent far too much time slacking off this weekend for my liking, I still managed to get two chapters on paper. I had a period of a week or two where I wasn't sure what was going on with the new book; it's looking like it might be long, for one thing--perhaps even more-than-one-book long. I have misgivings about this, but then I'm the one who decided to take War and Peace as one of my models. Anyway, I like how it's shaping up so far, so I guess I'll just try not to worry and see how it goes.

Three Items O' the Day

First of all, a small correction: Jason (my editor) tells me that Crown/TRP is a division of Random House, not whatever garbledygook I was talking before. Please correct your press releases accordingly.

Second, I have been reading The Essential Dr. Strange because I suddenly decided I had to have it, and wow, Steve Ditko may be a scary Objectionist Ayn-Rand worshipper, but he's also a pretty awesome artist/plotter/head-messer-with-er. This stuff rocks, right up until the point where he quit. Remember back when I asked y'all what comics characters you'd like to get your hands on? For me, it'd be the Defenders in some wise or another; not so much the Hulk/Sub-Mariner/Silver Surfer incarnation, but the bunch of weirdo second-stringers that Doc Strange used to send around to deal with messes they really weren't qualified to handle. Nighthawk! Hellcat! Valkyrie! Devil-Slayer! Anyway. Now I got to find me some more Ditko.

Third, but MOST IMPORTANTLY: Strange Horizons is having their Fall Fund Drive! We love SH 'round these here parts, not just because they are lovely (in every sense of the word) people, or because they are run by volunteers, or because they pay their writers and artists pro rates, or because they know how to throw a tea party. When it comes right down to it, we love them because they bring us great stories and columns and reviews and poetry Every Damn Week. Give them money. That's an order.

Back to Life, Back to Reality

So I am definitely feelin' the love from all y'all (notice how I retain my folksy manner of speaking), and thank you for that. Good things only mean so much without friends to share them with, and based on the number of folks who've expressed their congrats through various channels, I've got a lot of 'em. Thanks.

Back to work, though. I can't just bask in the love, and I have no editorial letter in hand yet, so last night I went and worked on my newest manuscript for a while. Nothing more humbling than actually writing; it didn't go too badly, though. Any scene in which someone gets killed is a winner, right? Hm.

Finally, I just have to point this out to y'all. Scarlett sings Waits!?!?! This is either going to be the greatest thing ever or a debacle on the level of Shatner singing the Beatles. Either way, I'm buying a copy.

The Biggest News

So, I've checked with all concerned about whether it's OK to go ahead and announce this, and even though I'm afraid that talking about it out loud like this will just make the whole thing evaporate, I can't contain myself anymore.

I sold a book.

Yes. Thanks to the efforts of superagent Shana, Superpowers will be appearing as a trade paperback sometime in or around the Spring of 2008. The deal is with Three Rivers Press, an imprint of Crown, which is a division of Random House. (I think I've got that right.) I'm going to be working with Jason Pinter, who's a writer himself (his debut crime novel will be out next year), and who sounds really excited to be working on the book.

What is the book? Well, here's the description that went out on Publishers Marketplace:

David J. Schwartz's SUPERPOWERS, dubbed "The Incredibles" meets THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF KAVALIER & CLAY, in which after a night of heavy drinking, five friends wake up to discover they have superhuman abilities, but lacking super-villains they find that the ramifications of their new powers are more complicated than they anticipated, to Jason Pinter at Three Rivers Press, by Shana Cohen at the Stuart Krichevsky Agency (NA).

That's more or less the book, all right, at least the capsule description.

They're paying me, too; and they're paying me well, particularly for a first novel. It's more than I've ever made in a year, in fact aside from a couple of my years bartending it's easily twice what I've made in any given year. (Keep in mind that I've never made a whole lot. Still, this is very nice.) To me this says they believe in the book, that they believe it can be a big seller. I plan to prove them right.

It hasn't really sunk in yet, not completely. But I've been in a transitional stage for a while now, since finishing my Master's, and this will give me some freedom to make the decisions I need to make. And now I can call myself a novelist without feeling like I'm not being entirely honest. Holy shit.

Me Movie Meme

News coming Monday, but first, via Gwenda, a meme.

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool . . .

All right, grab your Gummi Bears and your giant sodas . . .

Opening Credits:
"Angel Band" - Flatt & Scruggs
I prefer the Ralph Stanley version, but this one isn't bad either. Sets sort of a somber tone, though.

O bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home . . .

Waking Up:
"Hold Fast to the Right" - June Carter Cash (w/Johnny)
You can hear their age on this one, but it's pretty nonetheless. Apparently I've been born into a religious-type household.

Hold fast to the right, hold fast to the right
Wherever your footsteps may roam
Forsake not the way of a salvation, my boy
That you learned from your mother at home

First Day At School:
"Plan of the Man" - The M's
My roommate Marianne played cello on a bunch of tracks on this record, but not this one. It's a cool song, sort of retro-harmonic-hipster-mod-Yellow Submarine stuff. Fairly appropriate lyrical content for the beginnings of state-sponsored indoctrination.

Falling In Love:
"Kissimmee Kid" - Old and In the Way
Vassar Clements on fiddle--you can't go wrong with that. I guess we'd be falling in love at a barndance? Instrumental, so no point looking for meaning in words.

Fight Song:
"Owensboro" - Natalie Merchant

Well, I lived in a town
Way down south
By the name of Owensboro
And I worked in a mill
With the rest of the "trash"
As we're often called
As you know

Class warfare? Lovers from opposite sides of the tracks? Alas, Mercutio!

Breaking Up:
"Cocaine Lil" - The Mekons
Ah, yes, this is the part where I choose my nose candy over true love. Stupid me.

Did you ever hear about Cocaine Lil?
She lived in Cocaine Town on a cocaine hill
She had a cocaine dog and a cocaine cat
They fought all night with the cocaine rat
She had cocaine hair on her cocaine head
She had a cocaine dress that was poppy red . . .

You get the idea.

Prom:
"Shambelle" - The Police
Another instrumental. What does it mean, if I never actually went to a prom? This song has sort of an aimless feel. Maybe it means we got lost on the way. If you know what I mean. Not that I do.

Life is Good:
"Letterbox" - They Might Be Giants
There pretty much is no band that better sums up "life is good."

If I had a pair of eyes on the back of my head for each time
You forgot to take out all the things you forgot to talk about when you took a bite out of my spine,
I would have a lot of eyes on the other side, wouldn't I? Wouldn't that just be fine.

Mental Breakdown:
"Maria Elisa" - Cordero
My Spanish isn't good enough to really know what this song's about, but it sounds a little spooky and head-spanky. So, could be.

Driving:
"Lost Cause" - Beck
A sad Beck song. Poor Beck! Don't be so sad. Not bad for a road trip montage, though.

Your sorry eyes, they cut through bone.
They make it hard to leave you alone.
Leave you here wearing your wounds
Waving your guns at somebody new.

Flashback:
"The Mary Martin Show" - The New Pornographers
And why do we need a flashback, if this is my life story? Weak storytelling! Good song, though.

With your cameras in action, with your network connections, it's go.

Getting Back Together:
"Scream Like a Baby" - David Bowie
Not my fave Bowie, I have to say. In fact if this was playing when I got back together with someone I might think it a bad omen.

Wedding:
"I'm So Tired" - The Beatles
Hee. Curse Sir Walter Raleigh!

Paying the Dues:
"Blitzkrieg Bop" - The Ramones
Oh yeah. Perfect.

The Night Before The War:
"Word Up" - Cameo
Ha! I downloaded this one just for the way Blackmon says "Ooow!" I dunno, maybe you had to have been there. In the '80s, I mean. Do your dance, do your dance . . .

Final Battle:
"Holy Hour" - the Cure
Not very martial. Is there such a thing as emo fighting?

I kneel and wait in silence
As one by one the people slip away
Into the night
The quiet and empty bodies
Kiss the ground before they pray
Kiss the ground
and slip away . . .

Moment of Triumph:
"Strangered In the Night" - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers
This is turning out to be a very strange film. Nothing triumphant about a song about racial violence . . .

Death Scene:
"Golden Years" - David Bowie
Better Bowie, and more appropriate.

Dont let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere

Funeral Song:
"Back to Back" - The Replacements
Oddly, I like this for this use, although it's not even close to my fave 'Mats song.

We're standin' back to back
We're livin' back to back
You're holdin' back to back
And now I'm gonna hold me
Back to back to back to back to back

End Credits:
"MONSTER ROCK" - Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra
Amen! Nothing better than spastic rhythms, wailing horns, and unintelligible (to me, anyway) Japanese lyrics to close out an epic film.

Blathering on About Books and Comics and Stuff

My cold is on the comeback trail, my back is killing me, and they're predicting snow for tonight. Nonetheless here I am posting through the anguish.

I just have to throw this out there: I don't know what semiotics is. Does it matter? Should I ask someone to explain it?

I must confess that I think at times that Howard Who? is a bit light (nothing against light stories, seeing as how I, um, write them), but "Mary Margaret Road-Grader" and "Man-Mountain Gentian" are both amazing stories and worth the price of the collection on their own.

If you love comics, you should check out the latest issue of Solo featuring Brendan McCarthy. Warren Ellis posted some pages to ScansDaily and DAMN. That's weird (and good) shit. The issue has even crazier stuff. But man, I don't think anything can ever top his take on the Flash.

Also good on the comics tip; Brian K. Vaughn and Niko Henrichon's Pride of Baghdad--fucking gorgeous art and a heartbreaking story that's political, yes, but not in a fist-hammering-table sort of way. It's political in the way that all stories about people (OK, lions) are political. It made me sniffly.

In case it wasn't clear, I really liked "The Science of Sleep." Go see it.

I'm still enjoying "Studio 60 On the Sunset Strip," but it is a messy show. Much messier than "Sports Night" was, at least. (I was never a "West Wing" afficionado.) Too many characters, and the water is pretty muddy as to where the show's real focus is. Is it political? Is it about entertainment? Is it about society, or relationships, or humor (I hope not), or business, or advertising, or copyright, or sports, or celebrities, or what? It can be about all those things, sure; but not, I don't think, in the same episode. Also, it must be said that while I love Matthew Perry on the show and I think that the Harriet Hayes character is underrated and funny, I neither buy nor care about the romantic tension between them. The sketch bits are generally not that funny, although I don't necessarily think they have to be. But that "cold open" set to the number from "Pirates of Penzance"? Not good. Also Amanda Peet still sucks.

Last night I watched the "30 Rock" premiere (it's online; go here--but be warned that I had some minor hiccups with playback) and I can only say Eh. It started out promising enough, and Alec Baldwin is hilarious, but as the half hour dragged on it began to feel like the premise was already losing its appeal. Tracy Morgan is funny for about two minutes. I don't feel the need to make an effort to catch this one.

In fact, although I had a whole bunch of stuff on my list of new shows to check out, "Studio 60" is the only new show that's grabbed my interest. "Vanished" was crap--seriously, crap--as was "Justice." (Sorry, Eamonn, I tried.) "Kidnapped" was well-done but uninteresting, and "Heroes" hasn't grabbed me. I was looking forward to "Ugly Betty" but the fact that it's on opposite "Earl" and "The Office" means that, realistically, I may never see it.

That makes my TV watching for the week just 3 hours: "Studio 60," "Veronica Mars," and "Earl"/"The Office." (BTW, if you're a fan of "The Office" (it's not as good as the British version, no, but it's become a great show) you NEED to go here and sign up to get a call from Dwight.) "Veronica" is still the best show on television, and I probably wouldn't even bother with a TV if it weren't on. If it gets cancelled, I may just get rid of the thing. Well, then it would be hard to watch DVDs. But I'll figure something out.

Ow. Seriously.

Beware of the Milky Pirate!

Things That Are Ugly

Jane Austen omnibus edition
Originally uploaded by Snurri.

1. As promised, the cover to the Jane Austen omnibus that I'm reading. Created for the Prissy Aunt Book Club.

2. The Twins in the playoffs. Wow, that didn't take long, did it? Ouch. I think, if it hadn't been for the epic struggle of the season, with the Bang of the first-place payoff coming right at the end, the sweep might not have been such a stunner. It doesn't take a thing away from the season they had, though. And let's not lose sight of what's really important; the fucking Yankees have been eliminated. Go Detroit!

"The Science of Sleep"

My review is up at Strange Horizons; go here.

Thanks to Niall for asking me to review it. Nice to have something I could really sink my teeth into.

Four People Who Are Awesome In My Opinion Right At This Moment (Not Eight Years Ago)

It's a Friday, no one is on the Internet, and I'm posting like a rabid chipmunk looking for a bass player. Savor the madness.

1. Jane Austen. Somewhere, out there, is a video from 1998 or so of me on a drunken rampage, threatening squirrels (not real ones) and screaming invectives at Jane Austen, whom I had never read. This is my official retraction of that evening (which, to be fair to myself, I have little memory of in the first place). I'm lugging around a big, ugly (seriously; later I'll post the slipcover to this monstrosity) collected edition of Austen's novels plus the unpublished Lady Susan. So far I've read Sense and Sensibility (I quite liked Colonel Brandon) and this morning I finished Pride and Prejudice (Mr. Bennett was my fave. I mean, yes, he's a bit cruel to his wife at times, but she really does ask for it). I enjoyed both much more than I would have believed back then. Ah, youth. I must admit that at times I find it a bit irksome that, for narratives so concerned with money as it affects marriage, there's almost no mention of anyone actually working; but these are romances, I suppose, so I'm willing to overlook it. Next up: Mansfield Park.

2. Jackie Chan. This is the only proof I need.

3. Michel Gondry, and "The Science of Sleep." For more on this keep an eye on the Strange Horizons reviews page. Good stuff.

4. Torii Hunter. Yeah, so he missed that catch. How many Gold Gloves do YOU have? I'm just sayin', it ain't over.

WFC

I am, as it turns out, going to Austin. Who's going to be there?

Ghost in the Machine

This is me talking about my uncle again, so if you find that tiresome look away.

Roger was really into music; I just never realized how much. I'd known he was a reggae fanatic, and since we always exchanged gifts at Christmas that became sort of a shorthand for shopping. But when my brother and I went to the house the day after my sister's wedding--and what a weird, difficult experience that was--I found shelves packed with not just Jamaican artists like Bunny Wailer and Steel Pulse but also Miles Davis, Gilberto & Getz, Dwight Yoakam, k.d. lang, Gwen Stefani, Nelly Furtado, etc. My mom had told me to take some stuff so I did, along with a few books and a leather jacket. Then on the drive home my brother mentioned that he had my uncle's iPod and didn't really have a use for it. I could have it if I wanted it. I lost my own about six months ago, so I said sure.

At first I thought I'd just take it home and overwrite it with my own music, but then I thought maybe I'd listen to what was on it first. So far it's been a weird emotional roller coaster. Some of the stuff I'm not so sure about--I could do without Shaggy and pretty much anything jam-band related--but a lot of the jazz is stuff that I've been meaning to investigate more, and there are lots of nice surprises. The bits that kill me, though, are the overlaps. I hear Johnny Cash and Joe Strummer doing "Redemption Song" and I think about last Christmas, when my folks gave me Cash's Unearthed and Roger was so impressed by the lineup that he decided to buy it. I hear Lyle Lovett and I wonder how I could not have known that we were both fans of his. I can't help regretting the time we could have spent listening to and talking about music together. Sometimes it really hurts.

Anyway, I've decided that the library of tunes on Roger's iPod will stay the same. Eventually I'll probably buy another to put my own stuff on, but for now I feel like I'm getting to know him in a way I didn't while he was alive. Odd how a skinny little chunk of metal allows me to hang on to him, keep him alive, a while longer.

Um, now I'm worried that this ended up sounding kind of like a sappy commercial for Apple. Sorry about that.

Could the Virus Be Causing That Incessant Beeping?

Am home feeling icky today, but luckily there is baseball on. This will either cheer me up or send me spiralling into a deep depression. Will keep y'all updated.

Speaking of things that are on, I humbly request that EVERYONE watch "Veronica Mars" tonight. You'll like her. She solves crimes! While making many witty remarks. She's a kid (now a college kid) and all the kids she knows are a little messed up. So is V., when you get right down to it, but she hides it better. And if you are thinking DAVE I HAVEN'T SEEN THE FIRST TWO SEASONS OF THIS SHOW AND I DON'T WANT TO BE OVERWHELMED WITH CONTINUITY, then I am here to tell you that I have seen the first episode once already and Rob Thomas is being very gentle with you new viewers. He's not going to hand out a book-length previously and tell you to study it quick before the opening credits are over. NO PREVIOUSLIES, in fact. You'll pick up the stuff you need to know. So please, please, watch, and tell your friends and parents and pets to watch.

Ugh. My head is hurting and the A's are ahead. This bodes ill.

The Cranky Old Man Asks . . .

Who the &%*# is Dane Cook?

This Entry Has No Name

Didja ever notice how, when there's a lot going on, people don't blog as much? At least, I don't. If I were a news organization, I would be the worst in the world. "Sorry, folks, too much going on; can't stay and talk about it!"

Yeah. That's kind of how it is right now, for me.

ITEM: The Twins, finishing in first. I love these guys. They spent the early part of the season in the cellar, and since June they've been steadily climbing out. It didn't seem like they'd ever catch the Tigers, but in the last week they tied it up, then moved up into first on the last day of the season. Seriously, who's writing this stuff? It's totally implausible. I don't buy it. But every time I watch this video I get choked up. I've watched it like, twenty times. It's pathological but I love it. Even if the team doesn't make it past the first round of the playoffs they'll be heroes in my book. But for the record, I think they've got a shot at the whole damn thing.

ITEM: Spent part of the weekend chez Meisner. I really love those people. Pär is such a cool guy, J. is the best little guy-in-training, and Karen is beyond cool. They're cool, is what I'm trying to say. If this were a review of their family, it would be an incoherent rave. J. and I played with his toys and Pär and I had mellow chats and Karen and I saw "Scoop" at the budget cinema and it was great--why didn't anyone tell us?!? Love Scarlett playing awkward and nerdy, and Woody not getting in the way of the story. Hugh Jackman had to play a cipher, but he was still good. I'm developing a man-crush on him. Seriously. A couple of months ago I stayed up until 3 AM watching "Kate and Leopold." God I hate Meg Ryan. Anyway, to sum up: bark tea good, drunken pool good, Playmobil knights and pirates good. Friends, good.

ITEM:


Just follow the link. Mr. Ford speaks for me.

ITEM: A video. Men's room etiquette. Live by it.

ITEM: Yeah, I can't tell you. But it's kind of making me a basket case. In a good way(?).